


Marked for Death

by LaEmperatrizMariana



Series: Garden of Heaven: Curse of Nine [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alchemy, Cannibalism, Drug Use, Gen, Triggers, Undead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 15:40:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6014533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaEmperatrizMariana/pseuds/LaEmperatrizMariana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fearful mech must come to terms with the fact he cannot escape his horrible secret. No matter where he goes, death is sure to follow. He reluctantly accepts an ultimatum which causes him to relive his worst fears that have haunted him since childhood. Will he able to escape once more?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marked for Death

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a fic I posted on Tumblr, it’s about an emo Pharma and a drug-addict Tarn. Everything that happened was poorly planned so that’s why nothing worked out in the end.
> 
> This is of the horror genre.

     Practically stranded in the middle of nowhere, the medics of Delphi gathered around the center of the hospital. The electricity was going on and off again due to the heavy snowstorms. Once again they were running out of supplies. First Aid sent a message for more supplies, while their internet connection still worked. He also managed to mass upload and queue his accumulated fanfics.

    Seeing that he finished all the he needed to do, he sat in front of the fireplace and started writing the next few chapters. Ambulon had finished his rounds and sat beside First Aid.

    “What are you working on right now?” asked Ambulon.

    “I’m working on fleshing out Fist Raid’s relationship with Springer,” said First Aid, “I had this one random anon ask me if I shipped Springer and Roadbuster and I had to be honest with them - I do not. They’re incompatible and besides Springer is in a relationship with Fist Raid.”

    “Is Fist Raid even an actual Wrecker?” asked Ambulon, “I’ve been meaning to ask you that.”

    “No, but like he’s based on Fisitron,” replied First Aid, “like he’s in the Wreckers but stays at the base documenting stuff.” First Aid then began to explain the dynamics of his fic to Ambulon, as the latter listened attentively.

    Meanwhile, Pharma was in his garden watering his plants. Gardening was one of his favorite activities. Suddenly, he felt someone approach him. He turned around and saw it was Tarn. Frightened he tried to hide, but was stopped by a soft lulling sound. Tarn picked up Pharma by the neck and asked, “Where do you think you’re going? I have another proposition for you…”

    “Please don’t hurt me,” whimpered Pharma.

    “Since when have I ever struck you?” asked Tarn. Pharma did not reply and Tarn continued, “I need you to grow me some of these.” Tarn showed Pharma several small mottled seeds.

    “What are those?” asked Pharma naively.

    “ _Cannabis tyrekalisia_ ,” smiled Tarn, “...a particular species of marijuana that’s native to the Tyrest-Kalis region on Cybertron. It’s legendary for its potency. I just happened to find these seeds on a traitor.”

    “No! I can’t grow weed, that’s illegal!” cried Pharma.

    “You grow this herb or I’ll burn this place to the ground and slaughter everyone inside it except you,” snarled Tarn.

    Pharma took the seeds and placed them on a table while he started preparing some random flower pots he had lying around. Fortunately, Pharma had enough spare flower pots for all the seeds, which were about thirteen. Tarn then approached Pharma once more. Pharma said to him, “Please don’t hurt them.”

    “I won’t if you’re a good little seeker that does what he’s told without question,” replied Tarn as he reached over and petted Pharma.

    “But First Aid is going to find out,” whimpered Pharma, “he always comes in here to relax. He’s going to see the plants and snitch on me. That’s the kind of mech he is.”

    “So a pest problem?” asked Tarn, “I can take care of that…”

    “Please don’t kill him!” cried Pharma.

     “I thought you hated him,” chuckled Tarn, “however I can see his sudden disappearance being a cause for suspicion. I had no plans on killing him yet. I was simply going to install a security device that emits a high-frequency sound to deter him from entering.” Tarn pulled out a small disk and placed it on the door-frame. Seeing that Pharma finished his work, Tarn left contently.

    To calm himself down, Pharma made some tea and drank it in the garden. He then remembered he still needed to cook up a batch of potions for Tarn. Pharma hurried and got his lab equipment ready. Pharma also enjoyed alchemy, in fact, that was his most favorite hobby. He picked it up when Brainstorm had gifted him an alchemical grimoire for his birthday, back when he worked at the New Institute. At first, he was skeptical about it because he had a strong aversion to sorcery, but ended up loving it. However, he didn’t like being forced into becoming Tarn’s personal drug dealer. Pharma didn’t even deal drugs to Tarn, he always gave them to him away for free, out of fear.

    After completing the batch, he put the potions inside a mini-fridge. He then practiced some alchemy by transmuting more reagents for future use. Afterwards, he finally went to his room to sleep.

    The next day, Tarn returned to pick up his batch of potions. After that, it was relatively peaceful. Every day that passed by, Pharma felt as if he was experiencing a cruel, painful and very slow death. Delphi was falling into an irreparable state of disrepair and eventually he knew he would no longer be able to hide his secret drug operation. However, this was the price he was willing to pay to escape the constant fear he has since his childhood. The fear that others would know his dark secret and have him executed.

    During one particular evening several weeks later, Pharma, who was under much stress, made the mistake of joining the others. He carried his notepad and began calculating the needed reagents for his next potion. Since the suppliers were generally unreliable, Pharma had no choice but to brew his own medications. As he was trying to figure out what to add next, First Aid began to chatter about his latest fic. He was louder than usual, disrupting Pharma’s train of thought.

    Pharma didn’t know what came over him when he spoke, “Damn it, First Aid, could you at least be a little less creepy? Hmm?”

    “What?” replied First Aid, startled by Pharma’s remark.

    Face-palming Pharma continued, “I can’t believe I have to explain this to you. But writing porn about real-life people is pretty gross. How do you know if any of them are actually comfortable with it? How would you like it if I wrote messed up porn about you and…and…Ambulon?”

    Ambulon’s eyes widened. First Aid said nothing. He didn’t even need to say anything because he was genuinely curious of what Pharma could come up with. He liked sexy fics and sometimes Pharma would ramble about something interesting.

    Seeing that his complaint went nowhere, Pharma sighed. “You don’t even love Sprinkler or whatever his name is.”

    “His name is Springer and that…that…that is a lie!” shouted First Aid.

    “Oh really?” scoffed Pharma, “like I haven’t seen you drooling over the thought of his physique and heard you howling profanities in the middle of the night about wanting to fuck and cum all over his big tits. You don’t care if he’s a hero or not. Probably wouldn’t care for him if he’d never become a triple-changer. That’s how his chest got so big, you know. That kind of thing physically enhances you.”

    “Take it back,” replied First Aid, trembling.

    Pharma stood up and grabbed his notebook.

    “Apologize to him,” said Ambulon, trying to calm First Aid down.

    Pharma rolled his eyes at them, “Maybe I would, if it wasn’t for the fact you’re practically a reservoir for diseases. Chipped paint? Microbes could easily hide under there.” Pharma retreated into the darkness.

    As soon as Pharma seemed to have vanished Ambulon said, “You’re not a creep! You’re a talented writer. Ignore him, he’s so full of himself that he never apologizes.”

    First Aid tried to hold back his tears. Being told a creep wasn’t what upset him. What upset him was that Pharma found out about his fetish over Springer’s tits and made it public.

    Pharma went back to the basement where he kept his garden. It was one of the only places he could find solitude. Pharma went up to a table and drew a transmutation circle on it with some chalk. He then placed random rocks and some snowballs around the circle. Pharma pulled out a small test tube filled with his own blood. Taking a dropper, he put a couple of drops in the middle of the circle, activating the transmutation.

    As he did, he heard something move behind him. Before he knew it, Tarn stood over him. Pharma’s eyes widened as the transmutation finished. There was some powder in its place, after it was done. Tarn began to hum and it felt as if he was moving his hands up and down Pharma’s sides in the most sensual manner.

    “I thought you hated magic,” whispered Tarn.

    “Alchemy is not magic!” snapped Pharma, “Ah!” Pharma felt as he was getting strangled.

    Tarn wagged his finger at him. “Tsk, tsk, tsk! How unbecoming of you. Raising your voice at me like that…” He released Pharma. “You know I can’t wait. I need a hit, so give it to me!”

    Pharma slowly stood up while looking at Tarn in the eye. Tarn smiled beneath his mask, “Whatever that potion you’ve been making. It’s a toxic substance and I love it.”

    Pharma sighed, “So you want that. Unfortunately, you came too soon. You see, I haven’t quite finished making it yet. That’s why I was trying to transmute more ingredients.” Pharma pointed at the dust he had just made.

    “I can wait, I have all night long,” replied Tarn, with a slight glimmer in his eyes. He observed Pharma mixing the ingredients. To the untrained eye, it looked like Pharma was just throwing random things together to mix up some strange, yet fragrant concoction. At some point, Pharma became so focused on his work, he started to happily hum.

    “Your voice,” said Tarn, interrupting Pharma, “I’ve been trying to figure out what I love about it; it’s so unique.”

    Vexed, Pharma turned around and looked at Tarn in the eye.

    “You have a voice that raises the dead,” chuckled Tarn, “do not deny it. That is what fascinates me about you. Sure I can easily extinguish a spark with my voice, but to rekindle it? Nothing short of miraculous.” Angry, Pharma turned off his Bunsen burner. Seeing that he may’ve struck a nerve, Tarn continued, “Your sweet pouty face says it all. You know what I’m talking about. Upset that someone found out your little secret of why you’re such a successful surgeon? You shouldn’t be.” He got closer to Pharma, embracing him, “If you were to teach me your skill, then perhaps we can rework what we have going on.”

    “It’s not something that can be taught,” replied Pharma, “no one taught me anything. It was a procedure. I was so young and it happened a long time ago, that I barely remember. They pulled out my vocalizer and engraved a sigil into it. Then there is a special phrase that must be uttered in order for this ability to even work. The phrase activates the sigil. Every person who has my ability has their own special phrase unique to them. I’ve grown to hate this phrase so much I refuse to utter it.”

    “What is the phrase?”

    “I’m sorry.”

    Tarn whistled what felt like a slap to Pharma. Pharma turned away and continued to work on his potion. Tarn crossed his arms and looked on. He was annoyed that Pharma refused to share his secret with him.

    “Done!” whispered Pharma as he completed the potion. Taking no time to let it cool off, Tarn grabbed it and began to drink it after moving his mask up some.

    “You fool! You’re supposed to dilute it!” cried Pharma, “it is too strong…”

    Tarn suddenly clutched his chest and fell to his knees. He then fell over on his right side as the beaker rolled out of his hand. Tarn’s eyes went dark and he stopped moving. Pharma stood there looking at Tarn. He then spat at him while kicking him over. Pharma walked around for a bit. Pharma felt relieved but this feeling only lasted for a little while. Then, he remembered the DJD. Pharma rushed over to Tarn and whispered in his ear, “I’m sorry.” That instant, Tarn began to move and he slowly sat up. He appeared dizzy and disoriented. But it was brief.

    Tarn looked at Pharma, “I felt I was on the other side but then you called to me. You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” Pharma shook his head . Tarn stood up, “My apologizes for not believing you and I’ll pretend this never happened. But you still owe me a lesson.” Tarn got up and teleported himself out of the room.

    Pharma stood there, feeling foolish for not realizing how Tarn kept sneaking into the hospital. He should’ve known better. Pharma tried to clean up but he had stop. The ordeal had left him shaken. The sigil he had was the curse he feared others would discover.

    When he was a sparkling, he had wandered away from home one night and into the nearby necropolis where he loved to play. He had followed a group of strangers, because one of them in particular, looked just like him but as an adult. Aside from the brutal murder he witnessed, he was caught by other strangers. They were a small band of Unicron cultists. Pharma thought they targeted him for stumbling upon their rituals. The strangers then engraved the sigil onto him.

    They told him that the first phrase he said, would activate the sigil. Frightened, Pharma screamed, “I’m sorry!” Before he knew it, a hoard of terrorcons attacked his village. Not only was the event so traumatic that Pharma no longer goes out at night, but also there was a small sparkling who disappeared in the chaos. Since then, Pharma felt immense guilt for the sparkling’s death. In fact, this was what prompted him to become a doctor. If he could save enough lives, he’d attone for his crime.

    At some point, he ended up using his necromancy as a CPR method. In fact, he forgot how to do proper CPR. All he had to do was reanimate the corpse and since the victim was recently deceased, they weren’t technically a terrorcon and did not behave as such. He was so renowned for his miraculous rescues, he was stationed in Rodion, a city-state with a Level I trauma center. (This means the facility is very prepared for any traumatic emergency, such as accidents.)

    On a later occasion at Rodion, Pharma was so bent on reviving someone, because he was a single-parent and his sparklings would be sent to an orphanage, that Pharma did not take into consideration the victim’s state of injuries. The injuries were such that no one could survive them. In such cases, Pharma would not revive them, but he was more worried about the sparklings losing their parent that he made the miraculous rescue. The miracle was even on the news and Pharma realized too late, he had blown his cover. He no longer felt comfortable working there because he knew his coworkers were talking about him.

    That was why he was so eager to leave Cybertron for Messatine. With his self-imposed exile he thought he was finally free from his fate. Since Tarn started dealing with him, he felt his freedom slip away. Now that Tarn was aware of all of his abilities, it was a matter of time when he would be forced to use his necromantic powers for the DJD.

    That evening, Pharma couldn’t sleep and decided to sit on the roof of Delphi. Despite the cold, dry weather, sitting up there in the silence of the night was comforting. The wind picked up and Pharma moved to a spot that was shielded from the unforgiving winds. The next thing he knew, Tarn was sitting right beside him. Before Pharma could scream, Tarn grabbed him by the throat. He released Pharma after he seemed to have calmed down.

    “You told me you don’t go out at night, so what is this?” asked Tarn.

    “I couldn’t sleep,” replied Pharma, “did you already run out of the sleep medicine I gave you?!”

    “No, I have another proposal for you,” said Tarn, “perhaps we should speak inside where it’s…warmer.”

    After heading back to the garden, Tarn looked around. “I’m going to be leaving soon,” said Tarn as he touched one of the plants, “It’s purely business. A prominent traitor’s energy signature has been detected. He is far away, but no matter we will still go to him and give him a just death. It’s one of the reasons I wanted to become a Death Whisperer, that way our encounters would last a while longer…” He noticed Pharma looked more upset than usual and added, “…oh I nearly forgot. I plan on taking the herbs you have been growing specifically for my needs. I need access to them.”

    “Are you sure you can adequately care for them?” asked Pharma, “no offense, but you don’t seem like the gardening type.”

    “Don’t worry, I have it covered,” Tarn smiled and picked up several pots of weed. A space bridge opened up and Tarn went in.

    However, Helex and Tesarus came through the space bridge as well. They didn’t say anything to Pharma and helped Tarn move the plants. Pharma watched as his garden grew smaller, but was relieved because the plants were getting too large to hide. Just when it seemed like everything was gone, Tarn returned.

    “What do you want now?” asked Pharma, who was beginning to feel drowsy.

    “Remember how I said I have a plan for adequately caring for the herbs?” asked Tarn grabbing hold of Pharma by the shoulders, “That plan involved you coming with us.”

    Paralyzed from the shock, Pharma said, “If I leave now, it would be suspicious. What if I leave in the morning under the excuse that I am searching for supplies and I never come back?”

    Tarn chuckled and entered the space bridge, before it disappeared. Pharma ran to his lab and screamed onto a pillow. He regretted promising Tarn he would leave with him. After composing himself, Pharma headed back to his room. He stopped half-way to check on the patients, or “clients”, as he preferred to call them. They were all in stable condition. He then took a small break and sat next to a large mech named Fortress Maximus.

    Pharma looked over at Fort Max and whispered to him, “How I wish I were in the same state as you. I know you can’t hear a damned word I’m going to say or know who I am, but no matter. No one can force a comatose mech into doing something he doesn’t want to do. I…I don’t know where else to run. I thought I was safe in this frozen hellhole, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. It’s as if no matter what I do, my fate is always the same. Rest well…” Pharma went back to his room.

    As soon as Pharma closed the door, First Aid got out of his room. He suspected Pharma was involved in suspicious activity. Instead of searching for Pharma in the room, he looked elsewhere since he thought Pharma had left.  Unable to find anything after a brief search, he headed back to his room and saw Ambulon sitting on his bed with his arms crossed.

    “First Aid, this is getting out of hand!” cried Ambulon, “I woke to the sounds of dragging and then I see your bed is empty?”

    “Don’t make fun of the way I walk, Ambulon,” said First Aid, “this is serious. Something bad is happening and I think Pharma is trying to hide something.” Without a word, Ambulon tucked First Aid into bed and gave him a kiss on the forehead before leaving.

    The next day, Pharma woke up early as usual. Coming to terms with his inevitable fate, Pharma shredded and deleted suspicious documents. He then proceeded to make several small bombs and placed the throughout his garden, just in case. Around breakfast time, he explained to First Aid and Ambulon about the diminishing food supply. He managed to convince them to let him explore since he was the only one able to. First Aid was starting to feel ill and Ambulon couldn’t leave due to the threat of the DJD. Pharma bid them farewell before leaving.

    For Ambulon, Pharma’s goodbye was too suspicious. Pharma had never had the custom to greet them. He wanted to tell First Aid, but then he figured that would fuel First Aid’s paranoia.

    Pharma had traveled a long-enough distance, until finally he saw a space bridge and walked into it. Before he knew it, he was on board the Peaceful Tyranny. The ship was in very good condition and the air smelled clean. Tarn, who was waiting for him, picked Pharma up and threw him over his shoulder. Before Pharma could object Tarn said, “You’ve walked quite a distance; I figured you’d appreciate getting carried.”

    Pharma said nothing, he knew better than to sass Tarn. They arrived at a small dining area and Tarn sat Pharma down at the table. There was no need to ask anything, Pharma knew he was going to be offered a meal and he was right. Vos walked in holding a platter and placed it in front of Pharma. From the smell, Pharma could tell it was some sort of roasted meat. His mouth watered since it had been so long since he had eaten meat. Without a second thought, Pharma began to devour his meal.

    Tarn and Vos watched. They spoke to each other in primal vernacular. Pharma had no clue what they said, but he had a feeling they were talking about him eating the food. Tarn said, “Don’t mind Vos, he’s just saying he’s going to tell Helex that you enjoyed his cooking.”

    “What kind of meat is this?” asked Pharma as he licked the sauce off the platter.

    “That’s just offal,” smiled Tarn, “with the right ingredients any kind of meat has an exquisite taste…except liver. Nothing could ever cleanse my palate of its vile taste.”

    Pharma finished eating and handed the platter over to Vos. Tarn then sat next to him and held his hands. Pharma tried his best to remain calm. He could tell Tarn wasn’t being himself, not to mention he smelled a bit odd.

    “You’re hurting me,” whimpered Pharma.

    Ignoring him, Tarn said, “You know, now that we’re in a more illuminated setting, I can see your sweet face clearly. I’ve been searching for you for a long time and now you’re finally mine.”

    “I don’t talk to mechs who are intoxicated,” replied Pharma.

    “You don’t need to talk, just listen,” Tarn smiled, as he pulled out a small bottle and inhaled its contents. That bottle was part of the batch of potions Pharma had made.  After taking a deep breath and exhale, Tarn continued, “Long ago, before the war started I saw you in a vision…”

    Pharma frowned.

    “…We were destined to be lovers from the start. The only reason I saw you in that vision was so I could have a reason to live; this was before I knew of Megatron and the Decepticon cause. Things changed but my undying love for you has not. Though I must admit your colors were different, you were mostly white with red and violet accents. No matter, I sensed it the moment I first encountered you back there at Delphi…”

    “You broke into the facility, stole some of our equipment, and injured the clients!”

    “…I had a feeling it was you, the lovely seeker from my vision; my sparkmate. You know, that’s the reason I kept that traitor around. If I had killed him then, they would’ve taken you from me and sent you far away. I couldn’t allow such a thing to happen and end up losing you again.”

    Pharma smiled uneasily.

    Tarn gently stroked Pharma’s chin and made eye-contact with him. For a second, it seemed Tarn had reverted back to his old self; a lonely mech who felt insecure, lonely and inadequate. However, due to the fact Tarn threatened him and his clients, Pharma felt no sympathy towards him. Satisfied with his confession, Tarn inhaled from his small bottle once more. He took Pharma to a room and closed the door. As soon as he felt Tarn leave, Pharma curled up on the bed and wept.

    Vos was nearby trying to speak with Kaon, who appeared very confused. Vos had eavesdropped on Tarn’s conversation with Pharma and tried to tell Kaon what had happened in Neocybex. Kaon, who had difficulty understanding Vos because of his heavy accent said to him, “You’re not making any sense Vos. Don’t you mean ‘destroying the furniture’ instead of ‘defiling the furniture’?”

    Vos shook his head adamantly. Kaon sensed Tarn approaching and interrupted Vos, “Vos, that’s not funny.”

    “What’s going on?” asked Tarn.

    “Vos tells me I should eat more eyeball soup to improve my vision.”

    Vos burst into laughter.

    Tarn raised an eyebrow and said to Vos, “Don’t make fun. Save that for the traitors.”

    As Tarn left, Vos took a deep breath, “That’s a closet.”

    “That’s a _close one_ ,” smiled Kaon, “but you’re getting there. Still, I’m as concerned for Tarn as you are. He hasn’t been himself lately. Something is upsetting him and he doesn’t want to say anything to us about it.”

    A while later, Tarn held a conference with his comrades in the briefing room. All but Tesarus were there. He explained to them that no one was allowed to discipline Pharma or act like a direct threat towards him. Rather than explicitly say that Pharma was a powerful necromancer, he simply referred to him as his guest. If Pharma did misbehave, only Tarn was allowed to punish him.

    After that conference, Tarn went to visit Pharma. Pharma was still lying in bed. “What’s wrong?” asked Tarn.

    “You are cruel,” said Pharma, “you’re going to force me to participate in one of your executions. You said you wanted to use my ability to extend the sessions. And I’m sure you read up on the subject matter, on how there’s a 70% chance you’d permanently damage your vocalizer. I know you value your vocal abilities too much to ever take such a risk.”

    Tarn continued to listen calmly. Pharma began to tear up, “Why don’t you just kill me and rip out my vocalizer? It’s what you really want. Use it like a whistle and say that disgusting phrase until your own throat hurts.” Pharma yawned and fell asleep. Tarn had begun to sing a quiet song to calm Pharma down. He sat in the room for a while, petting Pharma, before finally deciding to leave.

    Pharma didn’t realize Tarn was actually serious about the vision. In fact, that was the only reason Tarn could not bring himself to physically injure Pharma. The next day, Pharma did not speak at all. He was too upset. He could barely bring himself to eat, everything made him nauseated. He didn’t even leave the room.

    Kaon brought Pharma a sandwich. He said to Kaon, “Thank you.” Though Pharma, found the meat revolting, he ate it anyway. He needed the protein.

    “You’re welcome,” replied Kaon. “The kitchen is just down the hall. You can take the plate yourself. I mean, you can’t just stay locked in here forever.” Kaon left the room.

    Pharma finished eating his sandwich and decided to take the empty plate down to the kitchen like Kaon had said. He saw Kaon nearby playing a game of tug-of-war with his domesticated sparkeater. The cord they were pulling appeared to be someone’s spine. Appalled, Pharma quickly walked into the kitchen.

    Tesarus was there looking for a snack and saw Pharma walk in with the plate. Bored and noticing Pharma’s apprehension, Tesarus charged at Pharma. Pharma jumped back and dropped the plate, shattering it on the ground. “No!” he shrieked as he reached over to pick up the pieces.

    “Tarn doesn’t appreciate anyone coming over and damaging his things!” yelled Tesarus angrily, “And because of that, you’re going to end up like the plate too; shattered into tiny pieces.” Tesarus tried his best to hold back his laughter in order to appear serious.

    Terrified for his life and thinking Tesarus was going to kill him, Pharma screamed, “No…I… **I’m sorry!** ”

    There was a loud banging coming from the fridge and the meat locker. Pharma’s face turned pale and his breathing became labored. Pharma knew he screwed up again. His most inherent phobia was reawakened.

    Tesarus turned around to the source of the sound, when suddenly an arm punched through the fridge and several flayed corpses came out of the meat locker. All of them had a ghastly violet aura. Tesarus’ muttered, “What the f---?” Before he had a chance to finish his question, the corpses attacked him. As for Pharma, he was already out of the kitchen and running away as fast as his legs could take him.

    The reanimated corpses were difficult for Tesarus to kill. He could only grind one at a time and they refused to stay dead. He then pounded the alarm, which prompted his comrades to hurry towards the kitchen.

    As Pharma ran down the hallway, he heard hurried footsteps and stepped aside. Tarn had run past him and didn’t appear to notice him. He saw the Helex, Vos and Kaon running towards the same direction as well. Desperate, Pharma made his way to the docking station where the ground bridge was. He set the timer for about 5 minutes and it was still programmed to go to Delphi. (Tarn had still kept it as the default location.) Shaking, Pharma accidentally clicked on a button that reset the default location after using the ground bridge. He activated the ground bridge and ran into it.

    Within moments, Pharma was back at Delphi, inside his garden. Pharma collapsed on the floor from exhaustion. He then looked at the ground bridge as he watched it close. Trembling, Pharma covered his face with his hands and began to cry. Having to relieve his childhood horrors in the most inappropriate place, he could do nothing else. As much as he wanted to tell someone his problems, he knew no one would believe him.

    Meanwhile, after an hour’s struggle, the DJD managed to permanently offline the corpses. Seeing what had occurred, Tarn turned to Tesarus and said, “Was I not clear when I specifically ordered you all to leave that Autobot’s discipline to me?”

    “I’m confused,” stuttered Tesarus, “what does that have to do with all this? Besides, I was just messing with him.”

    “Vos, be a dear and check on our guest,” said Tarn as Vos left the kitchen. He then turned to Tesarus, “I don’t care if it was game because you find his screaming hilarious, but out of all the places why did it have to be the kitchen? He is a necromancer, and necromancers and corpses do not mix. He’s not just any necromancer, either, he’s one of those Death Whisperers; the type that raise the dead by just talking. His phrase is literally _I’m sorry_. And now, we’re all out of meat and this kitchen is in ruins. What do you have to say for yourself?”

    Before Tesarus could answer, Vos came back. He said to Tarn, “He gone.”

    “What?” asked Tarn.

    “Not in room,” replied Vos, “cam-ra show he activated grand breech.” Frustrated, Vos repeated his message that Pharma had escaped through the ground bridge in Primal Vernacular with more cursing thrown in. As much as he tried, Neocybex was too difficult for Vos.

    Tarn ran out of the kitchen to check.

    Tesarus said to the others, “Let him be mad at me, but holy scrap was that the most fun I’ve had in awhile. I still feel pumped. But seriously, it was an accident. I didn’t know he could do that.”

    “Yeah, weren’t you asleep?” asked Helex.

    Tesarus shrugged because he couldn’t remember.

    Tarn entered the docking station and noticed the ground bridge had been tampered with. The default location coordinates had been reset to null and the security footage revealed Pharma’s dramatic escape. In an instant, his beloved was gone. Angry at himself for not holding tighter control over Pharma and not explaining things well, Tarn stormed into his room and locked himself inside.

    Helex, Tesarus, Kaon and Vos walked over to Tarn’s room and put their ears to the door. Aggressive transformation noises could be heard, accompanied by gross sobbing. Though he was very upset, he didn’t have the heart to put Pharma’s name on the List. Tarn’s vision ended in a similar manner; his bride was gone and his home was left in ruins. He beat himself over the fact that perhaps his vision had been a warning and he failed to heed it. Either way, he ended his tantrum by inhaling more of that potion Pharma had made for him.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to [_The Ephemeral Engagement_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5553623/chapters/12810278). Except you don’t have to read that one unless you want to.
> 
> Originally, this was something I had posted, and since deleted off of Tumblr. I made a revision and combined it with another unposted story called _The Powdered Bride_. That one was about Tarn’s vision he saw before becoming Tarn of the DJD. The vision was a drug-induced one and he did end up damaging his home. Vos was there and saw it. That was why he tried to tell Kaon about it. Vos did not misspeak. 


End file.
